Wishful Thinking
by Kiwiflea
Summary: About ten years post-finale, Derek is snowbound during a NHL game. A fluffy holiday Dasey.


**Prompt from jeytonlover ****long ago on livejournal**

"Dasey - Christmas ten years in the future.**" **This takes place in Christmas 2018.

AN: Apologies for 1) my lack of hockey knowledge and 2) my terrible French. Both are taken mostly from wikipedia, and the former partially taken from being a fairweather Blackhawks fan. Also, this lives in my imaginary world where OAR didn't win/or get to compete in the 2018 Olympics.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

/

Derek sighed as he pulled on his shoulder pads. His team was in Chicago, scheduled to be playing the Blackhawks this evening. The fact they were playing on Christmas Eve was not surprising, despite NBA teams having cornered the market on holiday telecasts. Holiday games were nothing new in the NHL, and Derek, now a veteran, knew he needed to put on a tough face to pump up their rookies who were missing home something fierce right about now. But at least they'd be home tonight.

Except...an abrupt snowstorm in the Plains had grounded pretty much every plane in the US, and Coach had notified them twenty minutes ago that he'd heard massive delays or cancellations were likely. Like so much snow their charter couldn't take off. CNN played softly in the corner, and Derek could make out that nearly every flight out of Minneapolis, O'Hare and Milwaukee had been canceled, and knew they probably weren't going to make it back to Toronto tonight. Which meant that he wouldn't catch the redeye home to London either.

He'd been playing in the NHL for 8 years, and maybe it made him sound like a little kid instead of his grown up 28, but even with holiday games, he hadn't once missed Christmas with his family. Sure they'd sometimes exchange presents a day or two late, but he'd always been able to spend a day or two at home with his dad and Nora and everyone.

It was the "everyone" that he missed. Well, specifically one "everyone."

Derek and Marti were still joined at the hip. No longer did he have to play referee between her and imaginary friends, but she remained endlessly creative. Rarely did a week go by that he did not copy edit her latest short story.

Derek and Liz played frequent games of Words With Friends, his step-sister frequently kicking his ass at the game. It wasn't surprising since she was majoring in English Literature at Brown, but his teammates always gave him shit for getting his ass beat by a girl.

Simon was competitive too, having been given an Xbox X for his birthday. The family's littlest brother loved to play its oldest in Warcraft and pretty much every other game. Derek was still shocked – he and Ed would have never been allowed to play such a violent game, but they always say it's the youngest siblings that get away with murder.

Derek and Edwin texted frequently, his younger brother always asking for dating advice from his wise older brother. Derek found it funny, especially since going pro, he'd had fewer dates and not seen anyone serious since...

He shook his head and focused again on the reporter on tv, her volume much louder thanks to Johnson, who had switched to local news and was sitting cross-legged in front of the screen, whining about not getting to bang in the new year with his girlfriend back at home. A rolled up pair of socks flew from behind Derek and beaned Johnson in the head, effectively shutting him up so they could hear the news.

"The Department of Aviation says it regrets the inconvenience that this might cause travelers, especially during this holiday season, but that its first obligation is to the safety of passengers, crew, and employees. We will have frequent updates from O'Hare this evening, and will update you when we learn more about this story, especially when the CDA plans to reopen both O'Hare and Midway. Again, tonight the Department of Aviation has closed both airports and is asking travelers to please please stay home and call their airlines for more information. Live from Chicago O'Hare International Airport, this is Michelle Gallardo for ABC7 News."

Groans were heard all around the room. Yep, he definitely wasn't getting home for Christmas.

Derek pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick note to Marti, letting the family know he wouldn't be there in the morning. Her reply was almost instant, "I'll miss you Smer. Merry Christmas, and tell everyone there, 'Hi!'" Derek laughed and glanced across the room to one of his teammates still gearing up.

Marti had a serious crush on the Maple Leafs newest addition, one Jeremy Martin. She'd been introduced after the Leafs home opener in November, and only had eyes for him since. At twenty, the kid was only two years older than Smarti, and seemed like a pretty decent guy off the ice. There were players who Derek knew would back him up 100% on the ice, but were total douchebags, starting bar fights or having different road hookups in every market. Jeremy seemed to keep to himself on the road, sometimes grabbing dinner with Derek and the rest of their line, but Derek had never seen him do anything crazy. If his crazy blushing any time someone brought up Derek's family was any indication, Jeremy was pretty smitten with his sister too.

A few minutes later found most of the Leafs skating circles around the goal, trying to warm up as fans slowly filtered into the United Center. Derek hadn't expected many to be in attendance, but slowly but surely more and more red-sweatered fans filled the seats. A few had white sweaters, probably just Blackhawks' away jerseys, but he hoped there would be a few Leafs fans there tonight. Derek let his mind wander to the person he most wanted to see wearing a Maple Leafs sweater. And the last time he'd seen her wearing one.

_Derek stepped onto the ice and looked up at the jumbotron. It took him a moment, but Derek eventually recognized what he was feeling as awe. He'd been in big arenas and on the ice in them many times before. And after starting for the past two years at Queens he thought he'd be immune to this. Maybe he was, but he just didn't remember the Bell Centre being so big. He'd been in __Le Centre Molson__ once before, when his dad had taken him to a game during a family vacation, but never since the name change, and never as a player. It seemed kind of stupid, and he wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he couldn't believe he was really here._

_One of the older players gave Derek a nudge on the shoulder as he passed by, and Derek began warm ups with the rest of the team. Before he knew it, it was time for the National Anthem._

_The lights dimmed and Derek skated to the blue line to line up with his teammates. He placed his right glove over his heart and held his stick and his left glove behind his back as __Prévost-Linton_ _started singing._

"_Ô Canada!  
Terre de nos aïeux,  
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!  
Car ton bras sait porter l'épée,  
Il sait porter la croix!  
Ton histoire est une épopée  
Des plus brillants exploits._

_God keep our land,_

_Glorious and free._

_O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.  
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. _

_By the end of the song the lights in the arena __began__ to come up. Derek cracked his neck and shook out his limbs, preparing for the game. The noise in the stadium had risen to a loud roar, but above it all he heard a faint, "Let's go DER-EK!" He turned his head towards the seats, searching for the owner of the voice. He found her, a huge grin on her face, just slipping into a seat a few rows back from the glass near the opponents' blue line. Her eyes lit up as she caught Derek's gaze and she waved back to him._

_He grinned and bent over to wait for the puck drop. This game was going to be awesome._

_The Canadiens would go on to win the game 4-2. But what meant the most to Derek was that she had made the effort to come all the way to Montreal to see his very first NHL game._

He was startled out of his daydream by an ice shower, and he looked up to find the culprit was the Hawks' smirking captain, Jonathan Toews.

"Thanks for that, Jonny," Derek complained.

"Oh you know you love it. Don't be such a curmudgeon, old man!" Toews teased. The Hawks player was actually three years older than Derek, but always enjoyed bugging his younger counterpart.

"I'm not a curmudgeon, I'm just pissed I can't get home for Christmas."

"I know. Me either. This snow is crazy, eh? I haven't seen this much since Pyeongchang!" Derek and Toews had taken home gold as teammates at the Winter Olympics in South Korea earlier in the year.

A whistle blew, and both men started for their respective benches.

"Have a good game, Venturi!" the Blackhawk hollered, as he skated away.

"You too, buddy. You too," Derek muttered.

/

They played hard. Before Derek knew it over two and a half periods were through and there were two minutes left on the clock. The Leafs were down by one goal and his teammates were skating frantically.

Coach called for one quick last line change. It put Derek on the ice, and a near perfect pass from Jeremy set Derek up to make the tying goal. He lined up his shot and pulled back, years of muscle memory helping connect his stick with the puck. It went sailing towards the goal, and Derek watched in slow motion as the Blackhawks' goalie Crawford dove for it. The buzzer sounded, ending the game rather than announcing a goal. Corey stood back up, flipping the puck in his catching glove.

Derek skated to a stop near Corey and the man tossed it to him.

"Better luck next time, Venturi."

"Yeah, yeah. I was just going easy on you," Derek said. He had played against Crawford for ten years and, despite being on opposing sides, they enjoyed an easy camaraderie.

"Sure, sure. I'd like to see that." Crawford laughed as he pulled off his helmet and gloves, tossing them on the top of the net. He glanced beyond Derek, towards the glass on the other side of the arena. "You got a puck bunny here, eh? Good on ya!"

Derek looked over his shoulder to where the goalie was indicating. There were a number of fans milling around, some kids hoping to get autographs, a number of adult women trying to get something else. He ignored them nearly every time, because the woman he wanted wasn't there.

He was about to brush Crawford off when he saw it. A Leafs jersey with his number on it. He had only seen home jerseys all night. The woman was leaning awkwardly against the glass behind the Hawks bench, and he'd know that nervous posture from anywhere.

"Yep, something like that. I'll catch ya next time, Corey," Derek said as he clapped hands with Crawford and skated away, towards the glass, towards her.

A number of his fellow players were talking to fans still, posing for selfies, cracking jokes, and generally milling about. Normally they were shooed off the ice and onto the awaiting bus or plane rather quickly after the final buzzer. Derek had never been so thankful for a flight delay in his entire life.

She smiled at him cautiously as he glided up.

"Casey," he breathed. He stopped himself from placing his fingers on the glass. It seemed silly to say, but after imagining her for years, he almost didn't believe she was real.

"Hi Der."

"I thought I heard you earlier, but then I convinced myself it was wishful thinking."

"Nope, your hearing is just fine." She smiled.

"You're cheering for the wrong team, sitting here behind the Hawks."

"I'm not here cheering for a team. I'm just cheering for you." She looked bashfully down at her feet. "Besides, it was the only seat I could get on short notice."

"What are you doing here?" He asked her.

"Can't a woman just fly to another country to surprise her step-brother for Christmas?" Derek rolled his eyes at her. There would be time to get a real answer out of her. After all, the plane was stuck, so he'd likely be in Chicago. All night. A night he could spend with Casey.

"Come down here." He gave her the direction as he unlocked the glass from inside the bench, ignoring the protests of a nearby security guard and a few jealous fans. Casey stepped through and Derek immediately pulled her into his arms. With his skates still on she was shorter than he remembered and his chin rested on the crown of her head.

"I can't believe you're here." He whispered into her hair, inhaling the scent of vanilla that brought him way back. He knew he must smell terrible, and he was shocked that Casey hadn't yet complained.

"Sorry I couldn't get you a win for Christmas," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"You couldn't have gotten me a better present, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas, Der."

"Merry Christmas, Spacey."


End file.
